'Put my qualities, such as they are, on one side,' said Honor roughly.
'That,' said Langford, looking across at Luxmore, 'that is not to be thought of.'
Then the carrier laughed nervously, and with a side glance at his daughter.
Honor coloured. She was offended, but unable to say at what. She put her hand on her little brother's head and stroked it nervously.
Then the yeoman began to talk to the carrier about his estate, the quality of the land, his cows and horses, his woods, his pastures, the money he was able to put away every year, and contrasted his style of farming with that of the Nanspians at Chimsworthy. As he spoke he fixed his eyes on Honor, to see if his wealth impressed her. But her face expressed no concern. It was clouded; she was thinking, not listening.
All at once the insinuations of Mrs. Veale rushed into her mind. She saw her meaning. She connected that with the looks of the two men. Blood rushed to her face. She sprang to her feet. The room swam before her eyes.
'I must go,' she said. 'I am wanted at home.'
CHAPTER XIII.
THE REVEL.
If to Sally in our alley and the apprentice who loved her, 'Of all the days within the week there was no day but one day,' so to all the maids and all the lads in country villages, in olden times, there was no day in all the year that might compare with the day of the village Revel.